


Working On It

by wearyeyebrow



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Adults, Aftercare, Attentive Dom, Biting, Consensual Sex, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Dom SF!Sans, Domestic Fluff, Ecto-Vagina (Undertale), Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Fem SF!Sans, Light Dom/sub, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Restraints, Sex Toys, Spanking, Strap-Ons, Vibrators, gentle domination, mild choking, sharp teeth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-06 11:18:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19061569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearyeyebrow/pseuds/wearyeyebrow
Summary: Your favorite moments involve domesticity. One night it's cooking together and the next it's sitting across from one another, snapping each other awake as you fight to finish paperwork. It took a few years to get to this level of comfort, but you wouldn't have it any other way.Well, for the most part. Two individuals with demanding jobs, friends, and families makes intimacy a bit of a rarity. When you feel like ships passing in the night, any and every opportunity is a good one. Especially with your sexual preferences - some things just take time.





	Working On It

**Author's Note:**

> My writing has been described as 'sweet, but a little gross.' Take heed! And thanks for stopping by!
> 
> Happy Pride Month!

She's late.

You're not surprised, maybe a little disappointed, but life will go on. At least she let you know that she couldn't be at your apartment in time for dinner. Short, succinct, like a business email in your text messages. The more upset she is, the more automated her manner becomes. Something must be keeping her. Probably her boss. Prick.

Sunday night is supposed to be your night. The only night of the week where both of you usually get home at a decent hour. It may seem a little dull, always having date night the same night every week, but routine is important to both of you.

You have a great relationship now, but it took a few years to work out the kinks - you didn't realize the depth of her paranoia when you first got together, and she didn't realize just how much space you needed. But, even after these problems manifested, you both decided that your relationship would be worth the work. And now, four years in, you are each other's safe space, a grounding force to come home to after an exhausting week.

Your mind wanders to dinner warming in the oven. You de-cluttered your apartment when you got home, throwing away crusty take-out boxes, and a few beer cans. You were happy to do it, knowing how much she likes a clean living space, and how much she appreciates it when you tidy things up.

You catch a glimpse of the giant bundle of flowers she had sent to your workplace last week. You knew it was yours as soon as you saw it on the delivery woman's cart. It was more of a display than a bouquet, covered in expensive bird of paradise. The center was a live cacti and a small sand garden. It was then you realized Mal had noticed your wandering eye at the grocery store.

'IF YOU REALLY WANT A PLANT, YOU SHOULD GET ONE.'

'I don't want to kill it. You know I'm not home very often, and plants die without water.'

'ALL PLANTS?'

'Well, most of them.'

You had forgotten the entire conversation. But, as usual, she hadn't. And now you have a cactus. Or a few cacti. It's been growing baby cacti since you got it. Mal calls it the COCKTUS now, so it's in your bedroom, acting as the guardian of your sex toys.

Not to be outdone, you retaliated by getting her an ornately arranged succulent pot, presenting it alongside a bouquet of lilies. You were kind enough to keep your gifting away from her many places of work, but not quite kind enough to give it to her alone. Rus continues to take the piss out of Mal's new succulent garden, which, according to a not-so-secret source, Mal talks to regularly.

There's wine chilling in the fridge. You picked up a bottle on your way home, only slightly disappointed when the cashier didn’t think to card you. You'd really like a glass now, but decide to wait. It's always that much better sharing a glass with her. She likes to pretend it's an aged red, instead of a middle-of-the-road grocery store bottle. She makes you laugh with her pretentiously outstretched pinky and flaring nasal cavities that make about as much sense as her pliable cheekbones.

You open your laptop at the dining room table and spend some time distracting yourself from the quiet by catching up on emails. Finally, at half-past 11, you hear the lock turn.

She comes in quietly and from your vantage point in the dining room, it’s easy to see just how tired she is.

You shut your laptop and scoot out your chair. She sets down her briefcase and gratefully lets you take her coat.

‘Hey.’

‘HEY,’ she returns, muted, ‘I… I’M SORRY ABOUT THIS AFTERNOON. BENNY SLAPPED EXTRA WORK ON MY DESK. I’D USUALLY BREEZE THROUGH IT BUT SOMEONE HAD DONE IT INCORRECTLY, SO I HAD TO FIND AND CORRECT HUNDREDS OF MINUSCULE MISTAKES – WHY WORK AS AN ACCOUNTANT IF YOU CAN’T - HONESTLY.’ She clears her throat, ‘I DIGRESS. I APOLOGIZE FOR STALLING DINNER AND MAKING YOU WAIT AGAIN, ALL,’ she sighs, ‘ON YOUR RARE EVENING OFF.’

You hang up her coat and glance at her still standing in the doorway, hands behind her back, at attention – as if she’s about to be reprimanded. No matter how long you've been together, she’s always ready and willing to ‘get what she deserves,’ in moments like these. It’s sweet and a little sad. You could dig at her, but you don’t want to.

You pick nonexistent dust off of her jacket, ‘So… this work you had to fix. Does that mean that the person who made these mistakes couldn’t a-count, correctly?’

You can see the wheels turning behind her eye sockets. You wink at her.

She chuckles before quickly hiding a snort behind her hand. ‘INDEED. THEY COULDN’T ACCOUNT FOR MUCH OF ANYTHING. THEIR WORK WAS SHODDY - IN FACT, BENNY'S ATTITUDE WAS DOWNRIGHT IRRATIONAL.'

You laugh and kiss her cheekbone, ‘I’m just glad you’re here now.’

‘YES, BUT I LET YOU DOWN AGAIN.’

‘Oh don't be so melodramatic. I 'let you down' a few weeks ago. I couldn’t even come see you I was so tired, at least you're here.’

‘EXCUSE YOU. I AM NOT BEING MELODRAMATIC. OUR TIME TOGETHER IS IMPORTANT. AND BESIDES, THAT WASN’T YOUR-‘

‘Fault? Not your fault either. You don’t have to be _on_ all of the time.’ You flip her collar inside out, ‘Let’s just have a late dinner – bought some wine on my way home. And I made butternut squash soup.’

She’s silent for a moment, as if unsure how to respond. Her mouth moves anyway. ‘STOP IT.’

‘Stop what?’

‘STOP BEING SO CHARMING.’

‘Never.’ You smile and move to embrace her before she steps into the hallway. She’s stiff, shoulders square, body tense, before she relaxes like water being poured from a pitcher. Her claws push into the fabric of your clothes, and you can feel her nasal ridge indenting your shoulder. She smells a little like hand-sanitizer and a lot like clean laundry.

'Welcome home.'

'THANKS.' She breathes in deeply before letting go.

‘Let’s eat.’

‘I’M STARVING.’

-

She comments on how your apartment 'LOOKS A LITTLE BETTER THAN AN ELEPHANT'S ASS,' and you smack her on the shoulder. But she still compliments your dusting. You almost forgive her. She automatically moves to pull out your chair before you sit down to eat.

An hour later and she’s looking considerably more relaxed. You both are, really. Wine glasses in hand, a window open to the cool night air, the two of you are allowed to be still. To exist. No words. No responsibilities. The dishes are in your dishwasher and the leftovers are put away. You hum a nondescript tune as your gaze meanders through the trees outside.

You’re truly relaxed. It’s approaching 1 ’o clock in the morning. Distant porch lights are out, your neighbors far apart. You can hear the river next to your house.

_Ring! Ring!_

It’s always a phone call.

You glance at your phone and sigh.

_Ring! Ring!_

You look over at Mal and she smiles, knowingly. You take the call.

‘Hello, _____ speaking.’

‘Hey, it’s Andie, so, I know it’s super late, I shouldn't even be calling you but, well. I can’t make heads or tails of this, and like, my findings have to be presented at tomorrow's meeting. Am I allowed to send it to your email? You don’t have to look at it now or anything – in fact, why would I ever tell you what to do, ehehe, uh, but, anyway, when you get a chance maybe look it over? Or, what I mean to ask is, can I send it to your email?’ You can’t help but smile fondly, even in your exasperation. Oh to be an intern again.

‘Well, first, you shouldn't have called me this late. My personal number is for emergencies only.'

'Oh - oh, gosh, I'm so sorry, I'll just-'

'Wait, wait, it's okay. You're not the first person to call me this late, and you certainly won't be the last. Just don't let it happen again.'

'O-of course ma'am, I-'

'That meeting isn't until Tuesday, remember? I won't be there tomorrow morning, and you shouldn't be there either. However, I'll look it over when I come in Tuesday morning, first thing. We can talk about it before you present it, alright? You can’t email me confidential records, but we can discuss them in-person. In the meantime, why don’t you go home and get some rest?’

‘Yes ma’am,’ he almost sounds relieved, ‘Sorry again to have called you so late, I was just… I’ve been looking at this for hours.’

‘The cycle needs to end sometime, Andie. Get some sleep.’

‘Uh, you too ma’am. Have a good night!’

‘Goodnight.’

You hang up.

‘I ADMIRE YOUR PATIENCE.’ You don't even have to look at her to know she's smirking.

 _‘Thanks._ But really, I was an intern once. I get it.’

You breathe out and close your eyes. You're suddenly very tired.

‘WAIT – TUESDAY?’

You can only be bothered to move your head in her general direction, ‘Yeah, tomorrow’s a holiday, I’ve got it off.’

‘OH. WAIT. DOES THAT MEAN-?’

‘You’ve probably got it off too – or at least, Benny can’t keep you. Don’t know how the royal guard feels about Labor Day.’

‘WE DON’T TAKE HUMAN HOLIDAYS. BUT I DON’T HAVE ANY MEETINGS AT THE EMBASSY UNTIL THE AFTERNOON.’

‘Wait…’ You look at each other and share a moment only two working adults can. ‘Morning off. We’ll both have the morning off. Together.’

‘LET ME DOUBLE CHECK.’ She whips out her phone, hesitantly giddy, and taps away at her screen. ‘YOU'RE RIGHT... NOT LIKE THEY BOTHERED TO TELL ME.’

‘A whole morning.’

‘WHICH MEANS, A WHOLE EVENING.’

‘An entire night,’ you breathe.

You look at her.

And you wiggle your eyebrows.

'YOU COULD HAVE CHOSEN ANY GESTURE, BEDROOM EYES, AN OFFER – BUT EYEBROWS? UNDULATING EYEBROWS?’

‘I told you that I’d _never_ stop being charming. However,’ you rise from your chair and slink over to hers, ‘If you want me to seduce you, all you have to do is ask.’ You settle on her lap.

She rests her forehead against your collar bone and chuckles, deep and low in her nonexistent throat. ‘YOU DO THAT WITHOUT TRYING, PRINCESS.’ She rests her hands on your hips, ‘I'M PRETTY SURE WE'RE BOTH THINKING THE SAME THING. I WANT YOU. I’VE WANTED YOU ALL WEEK. THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE OUR NIGHT, BUT BENNY RUINED IT.'

'Don't think about Benny.'

She snorts, 'THAT WON'T BE HARD TO DO. TIME WITH YOU IS PRECIOUS, SO – ARE YOU UP FOR A LONG NIGHT?’

Your face warms as you consider her offer. ‘What kind of night were you thinking?’

'ALL WE’VE GOTTEN ARE QUICK MOMENTS TOGETHER THESE PAST FEW WEEKS. I WANT… I WANT YOU ON YOUR HANDS AND KNEES.' Her voice dips dangerously low, sending a chill down your spine. 'I WANT TO WATCH YOU LOSE YOURSELF AGAIN, AND AGAIN. I WANT MY HANDS ON YOUR BODY, MY TEETH ON YOUR NECK – STARS, I WANT YOU.’ Her hands roam up your back, her teeth find your shoulder, the collar of your shirt getting in the way.

You can feel the heat in her words. ‘Part of me,’ you reach down and begin unbuttoning your shirt, ‘wants to fight you for it. Part of me wants you whining my name,’ you whisper, low and husky, ‘wants you on your hands and knees. But,’ you slide your shirt down your shoulders, revealing your bra, ‘Tonight, Captain, I’d love nothing more than to take your direction.’ You reach for her face and kiss her teeth, your hands resting on her jaw. It’s slow, it’s sensual – it means something. You pull away, smiling at her purple-stained cheekbones and pinning eyelights.

She breathes in slowly through her nasal cavity.

‘IT… WOULD BE MY PLEASURE.’

At once you’re on each other. Your shirt comes off and you don’t know where she throws it. You make quick work of the buttons on her dress shirt, eager to feel skin on bone. Her hands roam over your body, up and down your sides, your hips, grazing the top button of your pants. You grind into her pelvis and she groans softly. Her fingers fumble with your bra clasp, eventually clicking it apart, and you slide it off. ‘STARS YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL. EVERY TIME YOU JUST…’

She gasps when you softly stroke a floating rib, ‘Every time I just...?,’

‘EVERY TIME YOU...’ Her eyelights are all over the place, from your face, to your breasts, to the hand in her rib cage.

She kisses you. It’s hard, stumbling, desperate, and sweet. She’s mindful of her sharp teeth as her claws roam your body. She moves to stand, her hands still on you, and you’re so caught up in the moment that you almost don’t notice her pushing you toward the stairs. ‘COME ON,’ she mumbles against your lips, ‘WE HAVE ALL NIGHT.’

-

She's all claws grabbing your hips, teeth at your lips, on your ear. You want her on you, almost desperate in her desire to feel every inch of your body. She never breaks contact and her touch is possessive. Needy.

You've missed this. Missed this intimacy, and you'd like nothing more than to let her have her way with you.

She pauses to look down at you, still breathless, lips parted.

She pushes a lock of hair behind your ear. 'MAY I TIE YOU UP TONIGHT?'

‘How intricate are we talking?’

‘JUST YOUR LEGS TO THE POSTS. I DON’T WANT YOU TO BE ABLE TO CLOSE THEM.’ The glint in her eye socket goes straight to your groin.

‘Okay. Stoplight system then, if we’re going all out.’

‘OF COURSE. AND BLUE TO IMMEDIATELY CUT YOU LOOSE.’

‘Sounds good.’

You watch her pull the box from underneath your bed, the one where you keep all your sex toys. She pulls out the rope and shears. Then she appears to browse your wares.

You can't help yourself as you put on your best 1950's salesman voice: ‘We’ve got vibrators and dildos to cure what ails ya' - you need em' we've got em' - buy today!’

She snickers but her eyelights don't leave the box. ‘I HAVE A FEW PURCHASES IN MIND.’ She pulls out a rocket vibrator, the womanizer, a dildo, and a strap. ‘IT’S GOOD TO BE PREPARED.’ She winks as she sets them on the nightstand.

You eye her choices warily. ‘We might have the morning off, but I still need to be able to walk tomorrow.’

‘THAT WASN’T IN OUR ORIGINAL AGREEMENT.’

‘I signed nothing.’

She laughs, ‘WHY DON'T YOU TAKE YOUR PANTS OFF, PRINCESS? I CAN’T TIE YOU UP WITH THEM ON.’

You don’t hesitate, eager to get started. It isn't long before you're on your back, per her instructions, waiting to see what she wants to do.

She eyes you up and down, liking what she sees. ‘WHAT I MEANT TO SAY EARLIER, BEFORE I WAS SO RUDELY INTERRUPTED...’ She begins tying your right ankle to the bedpost. The nylon feels soft against your skin. 'WAS THAT EVERY TIME I LOOK AT YOU, YOU LEAVE ME BREATHLESS.'

She gazes up at you from the foot of the bed as she massages your calves. Rope winds between the two of you.

A soft blush blooms on your cheeks, and you suddenly feel very exposed.

As if she senses your nerves, 'IT'S PROBABLY BLACK MAGIC.'

You snort, laughing into the pillow beside your head. 'KEEP YOUR ANKLES STILL.'

'Ah, sorry...' you prop yourself up on your elbows and watch her work. The soft light of your bedroom lamp casts sharp shadows across her body. She's still in her dress pants, but she shrugged her shirt off at some point. Her rib cage is littered with hundreds of near-misses. It isn't often that you get to gaze at her like this. Her most prominent scar, the one that slices through her left eye socket, is so familiar that it is less of an old wound and more a part of her face. But the scars on her rib cage remind you of what it took to get here, what it took to survive, and what it still takes to this day. 

It isn't fear that you feel, nor is it admiration really. You suppose it's gratitude. You are grateful to know her, grateful that she continues to work for your relationship. Grateful that she purposefully makes time to spend with you, and grateful that it's something she wants to do, not just a perverted sense of duty.

'ARE YOU ALRIGHT?' She looks up from your ankles, mildly concerned at your silence. 

'Sorry, just thinking.'

'ABOUT WHAT?'

'Us. You. I don't know. You know how thoughts are.'

She lingers on your face before a soft blush blooms on her cheekbones. She looks away from you and back to her work. You wonder what your expression looks like right now; all of your emotions are easy to read in the fleshy features of your face. You want to say just how much your adore her. You want to say every thought you've ever had about her. But more than that, you hope she's comfortable with you. You can't force that. You can't make someone behave or feel a certain way simply because you wish they would. And maybe you'll never get there completely, maybe she'll always wait for the other shoe to drop. Maybe she'll never be able to return the softness of your expression, but you hope one day she'll feel comfortable with yours.

In the meantime, you wiggle your toes and manage to tickle side of her skull. 'But mostly, I was thinking about how gorgeous you are. I'm caught in your gravitational pull.' You smile at her, cheeky.

She rolls her eyelights, 'NATURALLY. IF YOU WEREN'T ATTRACTED TO ME, WE'D HAVE A PROBLEM.' You can feel power slip away from you as she finishes your second ankle.

She is methodical, checking once, then twice, just to make sure the ropes aren't too tight. They're snug, but they don't cut off your circulation. You try to close your legs with little luck. You're effectively stuck.

'WHAT IS YOUR RANGE OF MOTION?’

‘I can sit up and move my arms but my legs aren't going anywhere.’

‘PERFECT.’

The bed dips slightly when sits to lean over you. She trails her claws over the tops of your thighs, moving up your stomach toward your breasts. Your eyes flutter closed and you sigh. You’re enjoying the attention and you’re hoping for more. You reach up and do the same to her rib cage, feeling almost-invisible scars, nicks and scrapes litter the smooth texture of bone. She breathes out a rattled sigh, the tension and worry from the day begin to dissipate from her shoulders

The tips of her claws give you goosebumps. Her soft touch sends a wave of heat to your groin. You squirm, hoping she'll get the hint. She decides to ignore you. ‘Please Mal…’

‘PLEASE WHAT?’ She asks, nonchalant.

‘Please touch me.’

She smiles, crooked, almost predatory. ‘ASK PROPERLY, AND I WILL CONSIDER IT.’

You feel your cheeks warm as your composure begins to slip. You think for a second, confidence wavering, before you decide on exactly how you want this night to go.

You reach up and place your hand on her cheekbone. Your thumb traces the nicks and divots of her skull, and your voice is hushed, heavy. ‘Please touch me, my Captain. You’re the only person I want between my legs, the only monster who can do this to me.’

She breathes in sharply through her nasal cavity and places her hand over yours. ‘INDEED. IN FACT…’ She shifts onto her rib cage between your legs. Her eyelights are dilated.

‘IT WOULD BE MY PLEASURE.’

You flinch when she roughly grabs your thighs with her claws. Yet, her tongue is soft on your folds, teasing, lingering. Every move you make, every sound you make excites her, thrills her. She's eaten you out countless times. She knows exactly how to make you come. It's up to her whether it happens right away, or whether you have to wait for it. She isn't patient tonight. It doesn’t take long before you warn her. You can practically feel her grin as she keeps simulating you, tongue swirling around your clit, no sign of stopping. She looks so good between your legs. You warn her one last time before shuddering at your release. You twitch and spasm beneath her, rigid when she doesn't stop stimulating you. Her tongue is soft and soothing on your throbbing clit. Sensitivity sets in slowly.

You can't help yourself. She just looks so good. You want her above you. ‘Pleaaase, Mal, god, let me touch you. Sit on my face, fuck-’

She looks up from between your legs, face smeared with your cum. ‘IS THAT HOW YOU ASK FOR SOMETHING?’ She questions, out of breath.

‘P-please my Captain, please let me taste you. Please let me, I want you on my face, please.’ You whine, desperate.

‘HMM…’ she pauses, considering, ‘I SUPPOSE THAT WILL HAVE TO DO.’

She gets up and grabs the womanizer she left on the nightstand. You are curious until she moves to get on her knees above you. You swipe your tongue forward, eager to lap at her cunt. She tastes musky, sweet and salty - an indescribable flavor you can't get enough of. She's wet, dripping wet, twitching on your tongue.

‘WAIT.’

You do as you’re told.

She moves the womanizer to your clit, positions it, and turns it on. You jolt, still a little sensitive from your previous orgasm, but she has it on low. The womanizer is a toy that took you a while to understand. The reviews were great, but it wasn't until you'd tried it after an orgasm that you'd realized what all the hype was. You have a love-hate relationship with it, which is probably why it's one of Mal's favorites.

She finally settles on your face. ‘YOU MAY BEGIN.’

You greedily grab her pelvis and dig your blunt nails into her femurs. She lets out a little sound above you which turns into a moan as you rub the flat of your tongue through her folds. Her claws press into your thigh and she turns the womanizer up a notch. You jolt, but your girlfriend's cunt is far more distracting.

She's dripping, pressing against your tongue, rocking her hipbones. You want to close your legs at the sensation of the toy pulsing against your clit, but the ropes have left you at her mercy.

‘T-THAT’S IT, MM-’

You taste more of her magic and smell sex in the air. You lap at her with passion, fingers digging into bone as you moan against her. You hear whimper. Her grip tightens on your thigh. She’s close. You reach up and roughly stroke her spine - she gasps, body freezing, and then it’s hot, white hot, against your face.

‘SHIIIIT, FFFUCK K-KEEP-' Her hipbones rock against your face as she makes the cutest noises, chasing the tail end of her orgasm. It always takes her a second to come down from her first one. You lightly suck on her lips, and run your fingertips over her pelvis. Eventually she fumbles and shifts – the womanizer is replaced by the rocket and you feel just a little relief. She removes herself from your face and turns around just in time to catch your dazed expression, lips parted, face covered in her cum. You reach for her, and she kisses you softly, carefully, a small reprieve with your arms around her.

You snake your hand under her pelvis to rest on her cunt. She sighs into your kiss and lightly grinds against your hand. Her wetness covers your palm and your body heats in this moment of intimacy. Eventually, she pulls back to kiss your cheek. ‘I’M NOT DONE WITH YOU YET.’

She woefully removes the rocket and brings back the womanizer. You jump when she gets it into position. She moves between your legs, one hand holding the toy in place, and the other roaming your body. She leans down and kisses your neck, her soft tongue making up for her hard skull as she gently bites your ear.

You shiver and grasp at her head, holding her there. You feel her grin as she nibbles and sucks on your skin, feeling your chest rise and fall, faster and faster. She opens her mouth and presses her sharp teeth against you.

‘F-fuck,’ little whimpers make it out of your mouth, soft, and sweet. ‘Harder.’ Your toes clench.

'W-wanna see it tomorrow,' you choke out, 'p-please-,' she groans before sinking her teeth into your skin, into the junction between your neck and shoulder. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, and your hands scrambles against her skull. She releases you and laps at the punctures with her tongue. The wound stings and throbs. ‘YOU'RE BODY'S SHAKING, SWEETHEART. COME FOR ME. COME FOR ME, PRINCESS.’ Her voice is deep against your throat.

A few more moments and your body tightens. Your clit throbs, aches, hurts so good. You roughly jerk your legs, desperately trying to close them. She holds you down as you whine through your nose, the sensation quickly overwhelming you.

‘Oh God, so – God it’s too much, Mal it’s, it’s fffffuuuck,’ She turns the vibrator down, but doesn’t turn it off as you writhe beneath her.

‘KEEP GOING – KEEP TAKING IT. IT’S GOING TO FEEL SO FUCKING GOOD, THERE IT IS, THERE IT IS…’

Your whining shifts low in your throat, the pain slowly subsides and is replaced by a deep, unyielding throb between your legs. Before you can say anything, she turns the vibrator back up. You squeak.

‘P-please,’ you beg, ‘Please I want something inside me. I need you inside me. God, please, please-,’

‘ONE MORE,’ she taunts, looking down at you, her eyelights bright, piercing, ‘ONE MORE ORGASM AND I’LL GIVE YOU WHAT YOU WANT, ONE MORE,’ She leans down, skull pressed to your forehead, ‘I KNOW YOU CAN DO IT, JUST ONE MORE.’

You slowly nod, resolving to try – you feel her hand on your breast, thumb against your nipple.

‘FUCKING BEAUTIFUL,’ she whispers, before leaning down and taking your nipple into her mouth. Her tongue is hot, slick with her saliva as it snakes around your nipple. She glances up at you. The image of her sucking on your breast, the feeling of the vibrator searing through your clit, her body on yours. Everything is too much and yet it’s not enough, not for another one so soon.

Then she turns it up. One notch, then two. ‘Oh God,’ you whisper. Your body tightens. ‘Oh fuck, fuck, oh, no, shit –’ Overstimulation hits you before your orgasm. You can barely feel your cunt throb over the searing white heat on your clit.

You shriek as it hits you before sobbing, high pitched laughter mixed with deep moans of pleasure, you need to get away from the vibrator, but you can’t – the ropes have you bound. You can’t as she fights to keep it in place as you move beneath her.

‘THAT’S IT, SCREAM FOR ME, PRINCESS - YOU’RE DOING SO WELL,’ she coos, affectionately drawing out her words, sweet talking you through your thrashing.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head and you lose track of how long you’re writhing. The sensation locks you there, frozen in time.

Until she turns it down, slowly, and you come-to hearing her deep voice whispering words of affirmation in your ear.

You know she loves this. She loves when you defer to her and when you submit. She loves the look of your body, the feeling of you pressing into her touch. The way you look at her in the dim lighting of your bedroom, transfixed, guessing at what she'll do next, waiting in anticipation for her, all for her. She'll never get tired of this, of your body pressed against hers, of you doing the best you can to follow her instructions. The way you look, feel, and sound as you come against her. The trust it takes to lose yourself in that feeling, the will it takes to keep going - the high she gets is nothing short of amazing.

With the vibrator finally, mercifully, off of your clit you can focus enough to throw your arms around her. ‘I DIDN’T FORGET ABOUT OUR AGREEMENT.’

‘Please,’ you croak. Your cunt throbs, pulsing deep between your legs.

‘PLEASE WHAT, DARLING?’

‘I want y-you inside me. Please. Need it. Need you. Please.’

‘PLEASE…?

‘Please my Captain,’ you pull back and take in her steady gaze, the light flush to her cheekbones. Your voice is reverent. You bring your lips to her teeth.

‘My Queen.’

She breathes in sharply. Her bony hand cups your jaw. ‘ANYTHING FOR YOU PRINCESS.’

-

She looks so good wearing a strap. You had a monster-catered sex shop customize the harness for her, so it fits perfectly. The dildo is, of course, an electric purple to match her magic – how could it not be?

The strap wraps around her pelvis, fitting snugly over her hipbones. There’s a small rubber piece that curves up into her cunt, and it stimulates her clit every time she thrusts against you – it’s one of the best sex toys you collectively own.

She stands above you, eyelights sweeping across your skin.

‘TURN OVER.'

‘I-I kind of can’t,’ you laugh, breathy and bewildered.

She cocks her head before looking down at your feet. Sheepishly she chuckles, ‘MIND IF I UNTIE YOU?’

‘No,’ you smile, ‘I don’t think I mind.’

A minute later and you turn over, body stiffly creaking into position. You face-plant into the pillow and feel her eyelights on you. Your cheeks warm at being in such a vulnerable position. She breathes in before gently sliding her hands down the expanse of your back.

Her voice is low, demanding. ‘I WANT TO SEE YOUR CUNT, ASS UP.’ You shiver and shakily move, presenting yourself to her. You immediately feel her wet, warm tongue run up your slit. You gasp into the pillow, still horribly overstimulated.

She chuckles and pulls back to gaze at you. 'YOU'RE GLISTENING, PRINCESS. DO YOU REALLY WANT THIS THAT BADLY, DO YOU REALLY NEED ME THAT BADLY?'

'Yes,' you whisper, 'Need you, need you inside me.'

'YOU KNOW,' you feel her claws press into your ass, digging into your skin. 'YOU KEEP NEEDING REMINDERS, AND MY PATIENCE IS RUNNING OUT. SAY. IT. PROPERLY. USE YOUR WORDS.'

'I-I'm sorry, my Queen. Please, please - I can't take it,' your voice shakes as words pour off of your tongue, 'I want your cock inside me, please.'

She squeezes your ass, 'SO YOU DO KNOW HOW TO SPEAK TO ME - ONE MORE MISTAKE LIKE THAT, AND I'LL HAVE TO REMIND YOU EXACTLY WHY YOU DON'T DISOBEY A DIRECT ORDER.'

'I promise I'll obey, my Lady. I-'

'THAT'S ENOUGH.' She is harsh, commanding, powerful, but she soothingly runs her hands over your thighs, ‘READY, PRINCESS?’

You nod, helplessly along for the ride and loving every second of it.

‘THEN LET ME…’ She teases your slit before gently pressing a finger inside of you. You gasp at the sensation, and groan when she adds another, stretching a bit. The feeling is torture. She’s giving you something but it’s not enough. Finally, she gets behind you and you feel the tip of the dildo against you. 'IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT?'

'Y-yes my Queen.'

'ASK ME NICELY.'

'P-please, please, may I have your cock? I-I want you to fill me up. I'm begging you, please, plea-' Your feeble whimpering dies out as she shushes you. You feel her hand softly run through your hair.

'SEE, THAT'S HOW YOU ASK NICELY. I THINK YOU'VE EARNED YOUR REWARD.' She gently presses inside you. You can't help shifting against her, greedy, desperately wanting more.

She moves slowly at first. Her hands grip your hips. She's found just the right position and you clench around her, oblivious to the desperate whimpers escaping your mouth. You hear her groan and she speeds up.

‘STARS LOOK AT YOU, ON YOUR HANDS AND KNEES FOR ME. TAKING MY COCK, TAKING MY MAGIC. FUCK.’ You moan underneath her, hands grasping the sheets. You can feel yourself dripping onto the bedspread.

‘Shit! F-fuck me harder, h-harder-’

**_Slap!_ **

You gasp when her hand hits you, a light slap on the back of your thigh, cushioned by magic.

**_Slap!_ **

The sensation shoots straight to your cunt and you gush around her. Your body shivers against her, twitching, hungry. ‘GIVE ME MORE OF _THAT_ -’

_**Slap! Slap!** _

Twice on the ass and you don’t care anymore. You moan, sloppily drooling on the bed as she slams into you. In your oblivion you almost miss her shuddering above you as her own orgasm hits. Her thrusts become erratic and her phalanges dig deep into your skin. She doesn’t stop, her stamina still holding strong as she thrusts through it, breathing harshly through her nasal cavity.

She bends over your back and bites your shoulder. You can hear the dildo slide in and out of you, slick with your own cum. She roughly grabs one of your breasts, her full weight balancing on your body. She reaches around to rub your clit and you bounce against her hand. All you can do is make unintelligible noises into the pillow beneath you as you chase your next orgasm. You’re so fucking close.

‘COME ON, COME AGAIN. COME AGAIN FOR ME, ’ she pants.

‘T-trying, trying, nggh-’ you clench the pillow, desperately trying to get over the edge. You place your hand over hers, guiding as you rub your clit faster, harder, pressing her against you. You sob, feeling exhausted. She shifts, and suddenly her hand is around your neck. She squeezes and you gasp; her voice hot in your ear.

‘COME ON SWEETHEART, ONE MORE TIME, COME. COME.’ She squeezes harder and you choke, feeling her thumb on your windpipe. This is domination, this is trust. You finally feel it building and you moan in ecstasy as you come hard around her cock.

‘OH FUCK, FUCK YOU’RE – YOU, SHIT, ____’ She shudders, gasping into your shoulder. She thrusts a few more times before she freezes. You can hear her bones rattle, feel the heat of her magic against your cunt. But when she starts thrusting again you begin to ache in a not-so-sexy way. 

‘Red, M-mal,’ you murmur, letting her know you’re at your limit.

She slows down carefully, stilling her hips, still jolting with the occasional aftershock. The room is quiet once again. The only sound is your heavy breathing, raspy, mixing together. She nuzzles into your back. ‘CAN I PULL OUT?'

'Mhmm...'

-

You lie there, in the same position she left you, naked and exhausted as she cleans and puts the sex toys back in your box. She returns with water and helps you slowly flip over. Your elbow cracks.

You feel the bite of her healing magic press into your shoulder, and along some of the scratches on your thighs. It's just enough to scab everything over. 

'YOU DOING OKAY?’ She murmurs softly.

‘M’fine,’ you slur, still slightly out of it, ‘Juusst fine, feeling real good.’

‘THAT'S GOOD.’ Even in your haze you can tell she’s preening, ‘WHO WOULD I BE IF I COULDN’T SATISFY YOU?’

‘Wouldn’t be you.’

She gently brushes hair out of your face. ‘EXACTLY.’

You smile and reach for her, feeling a little needy. She easily returns your embrace, ‘COME HERE PRINCESS.’

‘Love when you call me that. Love calling you queen too, love all of it.’

‘THAT’S WHAT YOU ARE TO ME.’

You smile at the sentiment, touched by her honesty. ‘Love you,’ you whisper against her skull before yawning into her shoulder.

‘...LETS GET TO SLEEP. I MAY BE ABLE TO SLEEP IN TOMORROW, BUT I STILL HAVE AFTERNOON MEETINGS.’

‘Sounds goo.’

‘SOUNDS GOO?’

‘Don’t mock me.' You murmur, and she laughs affectionately.

You both lay down on your sides, facing each other, and she pulls the blanket over you. ‘YOU NEED ANYTHING ELSE? YOU DOING OKAY?’

‘You're all I need.’

‘I SWEAR, EVEN WHEN YOU'RE HALF ASLEEP...’ She says, more to herself than to you. You chuckle into her sternum and feel her arms slowly wrap around you. She shifts, as if trying to get closer to you than she already is. The rhythmic lull of her phalanges scratching your back slowly draws you closer and closer to sleep.

Amidst the 3am silence, Mal whispers against your hair.

‘YOU MEAN SO MUCH TO ME.’

Your chest feels warm.

You're pretty sure she knows you aren't asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I highly recommend Popatochisssp on Tumblr! I am using their headcanons/imagines for Mal's character. They were kind enough to give me the a-okay! I shyly asked on-anon because I'm a weenie. (I was also, in hindsight, inspired by Skesgo's Plum).
> 
> And also Skesgo on Tumblr, whose Fem!SwapFell Papyrus comic gave me the idea.
> 
> While I have not properly interacted with either of them, they both seem like lovely people!
> 
> (Oh! And, if you're looking for more Fem skeletons, I just found out about nighttimepixels lilytale - check them out on Tumblr!)
> 
> Constructive praise/criticism is always welcome. Or whatever you feel like my dude, no pressure.


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